Balance
by Flaignhan
Summary: He's a smart boy. He'll figure it out. [Spoilers for TROS]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Cross posted to AO3 because that's where my fics will be living going forward. I will only post first chapters from each fandom here and then redirect over to AO3 in the hope of making sure everybody who would want to know, does know. I'm under the same username over there, and have another Star Wars fic brewing, so do go find me. Hope you enjoy this.

* * *

**Balance**

**by Flaignhan**

* * *

She is nowhere.

And everywhere.

All at once.

The galaxy is racing through her mind, and she feels, she feels as if she's spread across several lightyears, as if her atoms have turned to dust but each one of them is still connected to its counterparts, as if she still exists among the stars.

It's not so bad. Far from it in fact.

She is no longer burdened with the weight of her tasks. Her shoulders - if she has shoulders - feel light, relieved, knowing that she has achieved her aim, and the people she loves live on.

There will be heavy losses today, but peace will follow, a galaxy that can thrive without the constant threat of the First Order. She sort of wants to know what it would be like. But she is content with her place in this story. Her purpose has been served, her questions answered, and she goes to the stars knowing she was so, so loved.

There are worse ways to go.

Except.

She's not really going.

There is a shift in the force, something small, but something she associates with him. Perhaps he's here too. And perhaps that's for the best.

Perhaps they could even find each other.

But then there is a tug, which she has felt before as well - towards him. Only ever him.

Her atoms draw closer together, and the galaxy withdraws from her mind. She starts feeling altogether more solid. And tired.

Her arms hurt.

She hadn't realised she'd not been seeing anything. Until her vision returns, and there he is, looking down upon her, his brown eyes shining brightly with relief.

"Ben?" The word is soft and hopeful on her lips. But then he nods the smallest of nods. His hair flickers with the movement, and she wants to reach out and touch him. His hand is on her stomach, and now she realises what he's doing, what he's giving her.

She takes his hand, and pulls it away.

"That's quite enough," she tells him.

"No," he murmurs, and he shakes his head, twisting his hand in hers so he can grip it tightly, and carry on with his one-off gift. She feels the life force flow into her, and she snatches her hand away, as if she's been burned.

"Ben no." Her throat is tight with unshed tears. She has lost too much to this war. She won't lose him as well. She can't.

"I have no place in this new world," he says in a broken whisper. "You know that. And I'm the reason you're here in the first place. If I'd been strong enough to resist..."

"You have a place," she tells him, reaching up to cup his face with her trembling palm. "With me."

He blinks, his over bright eyes perilously close to shedding tears. "Half a life though?" He pulls her closer to him, his arms solid around her, grounding her to reality. "That's all we have between us, and I can't take that from you."

"Half a life with you sounds a whole lot better than an entire life without," she says. "Wouldn't you agree?" She brushes his hair back from his face, and his eyes meet hers at last. In that moment, she knows she has won. He doesn't need to say the words for her to know it to be true. And so she leans into him, her lips meeting his.

His reaction is immediate, and she knows, deep down in her gut that he has wanted this - perhaps even longer than she has. She had thought it an impossibility, her last hope lost, but here he is, at the end of all things with her.

She pulls away, and is rewarded with the sight of Ben Solo's smile. She's never seen it before, and it's beautiful. So beautiful that she wants to cry for all the years he hasn't worn it. For all the years that he has gone without reason to feel happy.

Rey wraps her arms around him, resting her face in the crook of his neck. She closes her eyes, and can feel his heartbeat - perhaps through the force, perhaps in real life. They are bound so exquisitely to one another that it can be hard to tell sometimes.

"Half a life," she murmurs. "That's still decades. We're only young."

"I guess so," he says, his warm breath fluttering against her neck.

She knows they need to move, that they need to get off this planet before the Emperor's ships come crashing down to the surface. But after all this time, she feels she has earned a moment of indulgence. And so she stays there, comfortable, content, and inhales deeply, revelling in their closeness.

"We need to move," he says.

"I know." It's with regret that she disentangles herself from him. The feeling only deepens when she realises they'll have to fly home in separate craft. She'll have to keep an eye out to make sure he doesn't get shot out of the sky. Unless...

"I should fly the TIE fighter," she decides. "I can radio ahead, tell them it's me."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

She nods, and clambers to her feet. His leg is in an awkward position - he's hurt, badly. They can get patched up the old fashioned way, back at the base. She holds out her hand.

He takes it.

* * *

"This is so undignified," he says.

"There are less dignified ways to get you into that cockpit," she says, her arm stretched before her, fingers taut as the energy flows through her. She's going as quickly as she dare - the explosions overhead a dangerous ticking clock. She can't risk further damage to his leg. He's barely well enough to fly as it is.

She deposits him in the cockpit with only a minor bump. "Put your helmet on," she says, tossing the tatty orange and white helmet to him. He regards it with a raised eyebrow that suggests it won't provide much protection, but does as he's told.

Once she's satisfied, Rey sprints across to the TIE fighter, hauling the canopy open and hurling herself into the pilot's seat. She flicks the switches that she is so familiar with, from abandoned wrecks coated with decades of sand. The ship comes to life, and she patches a line through to the Falcon.

"Lando?"

She hears a jubilant scream, and then Finn's voice. "Rey? You okay?" He's breathless, urgent, but alive, and she can't help the grin that spreads across her face.

"I'm fine," she says. "But I need you to get a message out to all those ships."

"Sure thing," Lando replies. "Fire away."

"I"m in a TIE fighter," she tells him, and she hurriedly fastens the safety harness. The engines of the X-Wing are firing up, and she can see him, twisted in his seat to look at her. Waiting for her.

"Why?" Finn asks.

"No time," Rey cuts him off. "But just, don't shoot me down please."

The message goes out to the hundreds of ships above them, and she drags the TIE fighter into the sky, Ben following in the X-Wing. The controls are clunky, jerky, and she doesn't care for it at all. At least Ben's ship had handled well. The response had been near instant.

"Turn on the traction inhibitor." His voice is inside her head.

"But - "

"Trust me. No one's flown that ship in thirty years."

She flicks the toggle switch, and immediately her speed slows, but the ride becomes smoother. He slows his pace in the X-Wing to fall into line with her, but then there's a crackle on the radio.

"Rey?" It's Finn. "Who's in the X-Wing?"

She wishes she could see his face, but this stupid ship is obscuring her vision with its ridiculous cockpit and even more ridiculous wings.

"We'll talk about it back at the base," she says. She's annoyed by the tremor in her voice, belying the fight that she knows must come. She's fought enough for one day, and she can't take any more. But she knows in her heart of hearts that it will come, and she owes it to her friends to give them an explanation.

There is a crackle, and the sound comes through a little fainter as Finn switches over to a private channel.

"Is it him?"

Rey breathes deeply. She doesn't know how to answer the question, and she doesn't have the energy for an argument over the comms channel.

"Rey."

"Yes Finn, it's me."

Rey's breath catches in her throat, and a whole host of outcomes flash through her mind. She can't help but focus on the image of a flaming X-Wing falling through the stars.

"What the?" Finn's outrage is overcome by indignant curiosity. "This is a private channel, how are you even - ?"

"You're still connected to the X-Wing." Ben's voice echoes over the channel, and it feels good to hear it. It's different now, without the stress and pressure exerted on him by the First Order, by Snoke, by Palpatine. It's calm.

The outburst from Finn gets distorted over the channel, and perhaps it's good thing. She catches words here and there, and a garbled snippet of something that might be 'outta your mind?' but the TIE fighter's water ravaged systems take care of the rest for her.

"Can you save this conversation until she's recovered?" Ben asks. "She needs to rest. Can we agree on that at least? Please?"

The corner of Rey's mouth quirks with a smile. It's an impossible statement to argue with. Ben Solo has positioned himself as a reasonable, measured man. Nothing will throw the Rebellion off more so than that.

"Since when do you talk for her, hmm?" Finn asks. "She's got a mouth, hasn't she? She can speak, can't she?"

"Finn, she nearly died fighting Palpatine. She doesn't have the energy to argue with you. Plus..." he trails off for a moment, but Finn doesn't interject. "It doesn't make any difference if I tell you to shut up - you hate me already anyway."

It's a fair point, and even Finn must concede it, because his next words are for Rey and for Rey only.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replies. "Just tired."

She supposes they're all tired. Every single one of them. But the base isn't too far away, and if this old crate can make the jump to light speed they should be back soon enough.

"Okay," Finn says. "I'll see you back at base."

His voice is in her head again. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah fine," she says. She wishes she could see him. Just to know he's still here. Still real.

He reaches out for her through the force, and the world slips away for a moment. It's as if he's sitting next to her, as though the TIE fighter and the X-Wing have been welded together to create a hybrid ship. His left hand is next to her right one. He flexes his fingers - an invitation.

She takes it.

* * *

She blames the bumpy landing on the ship. And then her exhaustion. And then just the heady realisation that they've done it. They've defeated the First Order. Upon re-entry, the TIE fighter has, in fact, taken out half a dozen trees.

Ben tosses his helmet to the ground, lifts himself out of the cockpit and drops himself to the ground, landing painfully on his good ankle. Her vision is starting to blur, and with tired fingers she unclips the harness holding her fast against the seat. The acrid stench of fried electrics makes her nose twitch, but then he's there, heaving open the canopy and reaching in to pull her out.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice trembling. Rey grabs his arm to steady herself and realises he's sweating. His ankle must be bad.

"I just hit a few trees, nothing sinister...I mean...serious."

"Look at me." He's cupping her face, and she manages to open her eyes just long enough to meet his troubled gaze. "Come on," he says, and he puts his arm around her waist, dragging her onwards while her feet scuff against the undergrowth.

The sun is bright when they emerge from the trees, and there's a hive of activity taking place around them. She can't see any of it - opening her eyes is far too much effort, and the sounds are becoming harder and harder to distinguish.

"What the hell's he doing here?"

"Rey!"

Footsteps, frantic, grow louder.

"She crashed the TIE fighter," Ben says. "Help me with her, I can't carry her - my leg."

"Med transport!" yells Finn at the top of his lungs. "Poe take her from him."

She's loaded onto the transport, and the world grows quieter around her. But all she can feel is his absence.

"Ben?"

She holds out a hand in the darkness.

He takes it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Balance**

**by Flaignhan**

* * *

People stay out of his way. He's grateful for that, at least, but he's on high alert, half expecting a rogue blaster to be fired at any moment.

It wouldn't do to die now.

The med team are straightforward with him. They bandage up his leg and set up a comfortable chair next to Rey's bed, opposite the data screen. He can feel her heartbeat, lagging slightly behind his own, and the little blips on the screen only echo that.

The hours drag by, and at some point, he falls asleep, her hand in his, fingers interlaced. When he wakes, he doesn't feel rested. The exhaustion has penetrated the very core of him, but his brain is more alert. He's conscious of everything around him; the jubilation of the victory doesn't quite feel real. It's like it's trapped in a bubble some place out of reach, something for other people, but not for him.

At least they're far more concerned with celebrating than they are with him.

Time passes, but the harsh lighting of the medical bay doesn't give him any clues as to whether it's night or day.

Still she sleeps.

Finn comes by to check on her once, twice, three times, all the while ignoring Ben. He's not sure he'd have anything to say anyway.

It must be morning by the time the pilot comes. Poe, he thinks his name is. He regards Ben with a look of innate distrust, which is fair. But he speaks to him in a civil tone.

"We're holding a funeral for the general later today," he tells him.

"Okay," Ben says, briefly looking up to meet Poe's gaze. "Thank you."

"They're preparing her now," Poe continues. "If you wanna see her."

It's like the world falls out from under him. His stomach lurches, and he feels so far from everyone and everything. He can barely feel Rey, so slight is her presence in the force.

But he needs to see her.

He pushes it all aside, drags himself out of the deep dark hole that his thoughts have dug around him, and reaches out for the crutch provided to him by the med team. He sets Rey's hand gently down on her stomach, experiences a brief flicker of anxiety about leaving her, then takes a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable shot of pain that will resonate through him when he stands.

Ben is certain that Poe walks just a little bit faster than him to keep him in some level of discomfort. His own pride is such that he keeps up, ignoring the white hot sensation in his leg.

"So what happened?" Poe asks, apparently unable to hold his tongue for much longer.

"She died," Ben says, stumping along, his crutch digging into his armpit as he leans his weight on it.

"No, to Rey."

"She _died_."

"_What_?" Poe stops and whirls around, his dark eyebrows contorted into a disbelieving frown. "What do you mean she _died_?"

"The energy it took to destroy Palpatine," he grunts, adjusting his position and failing to find something more comfortable. "It was her whole life force. She gave everything she had to destroying him."

"So how is she _here_?" Poe asks, his confusion only heightened.

"Because I gave her some of mine," he says. He grits his teeth and looks down at the floor, trying to focus on anything but the pain in his leg. It's spreading through him - up his torso and along the under side of his arm, and it's difficult to think, let alone talk. "Can we keep moving?"

Something changes in Poe's gaze, a hint of pity flashing through them. "Yeah," he says. "Sorry." He holds out an arm for Ben to steady himself, and he takes it. It's not where either of them want to be, but the sooner they reach their destination, the sooner it'll all be over.

The room is dark, an absolute contrast to the med bay. Candles give it a soft orange glow, highlighting the contours of her face. Poe pulls a chair over, and Ben quietly thanks him before dropping into it. He can't look at her. Not properly. Not yet.

She is surrounded by flowers, stems twined together to create one everlasting chain of beauty and nature. The petals are all soft colours, whites and lilacs and barely there pinks. In all the madness, and all the celebration, someone has taken a great deal of time over this.

He doesn't have the words to express to her, and so he reaches for her hand instead. There is a soft hiss as the door seals shut, and he is alone with her, after all this time.

He should have come back sooner. He should never have let it go this far. When his dad came for him, he could have dropped his sabre and left on the falcon and none of this, _none of it_, would have had to happen.

His whole family is dead because of him.

The first tear breaks through the cracks, and then the whole dam is obliterated. A tidal wave of grief surges through him, and he counts, with the curse of hindsight, all the times he could have come home. If only he'd listened.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Mom, I'm so _sorry_."

It's no good, because she can't hear him now. Her hand is cool in his, and there is nothing emanating from her. No deep wisdom or staunchly held beliefs. Nothing. Just a shell where the soul of his mother used to be.

He rests his forehead against her arm as he cries, the soft velvet of her dress absorbing his tears as quickly as they come. He can still smell her on the clothes. She smells like home, and the realisation brings an onslaught of memories that he's not equipped to deal with.

He cries harder. It's been years since he's accepted his love for her - for all of them - and so long since he's been this close to her.

He can't remember the last time he hugged his mom. And now it's all too late.

The hand on his shoulder sends a jolt through him, and he cricks his neck when he whips around to see who it is.

"Relax kid," says Luke. "It's just me."

Ben turns back to his mom. He can't face Luke. He can't face the conversation. But Luke doesn't speak. He stands next to him, his hand on Ben's shoulder. It feels real, as if Luke were solid and whole. Ben can feel his thumb, shifting minutely against the fabric of his shirt. There's a warmth emanating from him that feels real too, as if there were blood flowing through his veins.

His mom is cold and lifeless before him, her dark eyelashes brushing against her skin, the rosiness in her cheeks painted on to make her seem like she's sleeping.

"It's all my fault," Ben chokes out. "All of it." He needs someone to acknowledge that before he can move on. Someone to shake some sense into him, so that he can figure out a way to build a life with Rey. One that she deserves.

Luke makes a disparaging sound, and Ben realises he won't be receiving any wisdom from his uncle.

"Your fault, my fault, Leia's fault, _Han's_ fault...it's easy to dish out blame after the fact."

"You're all dead because of me," Ben murmurs, his words muffled by the soft mattress that is his mother's resting place.

"This all started long before you were even old enough to _speak_," Luke says. There is a scraping sound as he draws up a chair next to Ben, and places one translucent hand on his arm. "We should have realised sooner, we should have protected you better. _I_...I should have been braver."

Ben looks up, into his uncle's lined face. Even with the haze of bluish light around him, it's clear he carries a heavy burden.

"I could have loved you better," Luke tells him. "Instead of fearing what Snoke had achieved. I could have loved you better."

"It doesn't change what I did," Ben says, shaking his head and returning his gaze to the mattress. It's difficult to look at him for too long, knowing what he's done.

"No," Luke concedes with a sigh. "It doesn't. But you've got a life ahead of you. One where you can make your own decisions, where no one expects _anything_ of you. You could be anybody you want. You just need to figure out what matters to you."

"Rey," he says, immediately, and with certainty. She is his only constant. His world revolves around her now, the woman who, time and time again, saw the good in him when he could never see it in himself.

"Rey," Luke confirms. "You can figure out your path together."

"Did you know?" Ben asks, turning his head to see the reaction. "When you met her, did you know?"

Luke shakes his head, and there's no lie there, no misdirection. After all, what would be the point of that now?

"No," he says. "But I think Leia did. She never gave up on you, and she was right."

Luke's words don't make it any easier. His mom's hand feels so small and distant in his own. How many sleepless nights had he spent, lying awake in his quarters, ignoring her as she reached out. He had somehow convinced himself that it was far too late to go home.

"You can spend a long time thinking about all the things you could have done differently," Luke continues. "Believe me, I _know_. But it doesn't _achieve_ anything. This galaxy needs to heal, it needs to rebuild. And you need to decide what your place is in that."

Ben nods, his throat too tight for words. It's not forgiveness. It's not absolution. But it _is_ acceptance. It's an invitation to move forward, rather than be paralysed by the past. It's encouragement, to do something to better the new world, rather than run from it.

He can't be a coward about this. And he doesn't suppose Rey would let him.

"Thank you," he says softly, but when he turns, Luke is already gone, the chair empty beside him. Ben feels a shift in the force, something that wraps him up, engulfing him in protection and affection. He takes one last look at his mom's face before she disappears altogether, leaving the flowers behind.

He hobbles out of the room. There is nothing here for him now. On his way back to the base, he sees Poe, who nods at him.

Ben opens his mouth, but the words fail. He needs to explain, because if somebody goes back to find she's gone, all hell will break loose. Poe stops in his tracks, awaiting the words that must, must come from somewhere.

"She's gone," he says, simply.

Poe frowns. "I know," he says. "She died yesterday."

Ben shakes his head. "Physically, she's gone." He doesn't feel up for a lecture in Jedi lore, but when Poe's confusion only becomes more prominent, he lets out a sigh. "When Jedi die...their bodies..." he looks at the walls, searching for the right word. "Fade. She's gone."

"But she died _yesterday_," Poe says. "So why didn't she _fade_ then?"

Ben opens his mouth to answer, but has no idea what he can possibly say. He has a feeling he knows the answer, but it would be stupid, vain, to say it aloud. His train of thought is interrupted by Finn, speeding down the corridor.

"Is she gone?"

The question throws him, and Poe too apparently.

"How did you know?" Ben asks, confusion settling on him now. "She's only just - "

"I _felt it_," Finn says softly, craning his neck to look past Ben and Poe towards the room where she had rested.

"_You_ felt it?" Poe asks, his voice raised a notch as though every step in this conversation is propelling him towards a breakdown. "How did _you_ feel it?"

"I..." Finn tails off, but Ben knows the look on his face. The crease of the brow, the mouth half open, wanting to express what the mind has felt so acutely. "I just...she's at peace."

Poe looks between the two of them, then shakes his head as he tries to pull everything together in his mind. "So her body's gone?"

"Yes," Ben says.

Poe lets out a breath. "You know I have had it up to _here_," he raises his hand to be in line with his temple, "with all this Jedi mumbo jumbo."

"Me too," Ben says, and he shuffles onward, his crutch clunking every time the tip of it comes down hard on the ground. Poe stays behind, but Finn strides alongside him.

"I think she was waiting for you to come back," he says.

"Yeah, maybe," Ben replies. He can't think about Finn now. He can't think about any of it. He just wants to get back to Rey. He can't have her disappearing too. Finn has, however, given voice to his own theory. His mom was holding on for him, waiting for him to show his face before she moved on to the next place.

Finn checks on Rey, and says a few quiet words to her while Ben settles himself in the seat next to her bed.

Her hand has slipped from the spot where he left it, and now lies next to her, palm facing up, fingers curled a fraction as if she's reaching for something.

He takes it.

* * *

She's still unconscious.

Ben's patience wears thin.

All he wants is for her to open her eyes, to tell him that she's going to be okay, that she just needs some time. But for days, it's been silence.

He hates it.

It's Rose who places a set of clean clothes at the foot of Rey's bed. She gives him the most tentative of smiles, presumably to soften the message.

He stinks. He's caked in blood, his sweat has turned stale, and he's barely left Rey's side for four days. Perhaps no one except Rose has been brave enough to tell him. Perhaps the med team have implored her to do something about the sweaty Jedi in the med bay.

"The med team can help you get cleaned up if you need," she says. When he gives a minute nod, but says nothing, she presses further. "Would you like me to ask them for you?"

It's an instruction, rather than an invitation. It reminds him of his mother, the presumptive way she would move things forward without offering up choices. Rose is channelling that spirit - get cleaned up, now, please.

"I can sit with Rey while you're in there."

"Thank you," he says, conceding. He would undoubtedly feel a lot better if he were clean, but somehow that doesn't seem important right now.

"Would you like one of the med team to help you?" She's still on that line of thought. He's not so badly damaged that he needs someone else to clean him.

He shakes his head. "A chair would be helpful," he says, and Rose nods, striding off to collect a chair and carrying it into the next room. She returns briskly, task complete, and hands him his crutch.

She is relentless.

Ben gives Rey's hand a gentle squeeze, then braces one arm against the wall as he pushes himself up from his chair. The pain has lessened in the days he has spent here, the grunts diminishing in his throat. But he is still blindsided by eye watering pangs that take him by surprise anytime he places any weight at all on his bad leg.

He takes the crutch from Rose with a quiet word of thanks, gathers up the clothes, and clamps them under his arm. He hobbles over to the darkened room to find a bath has already been drawn. He sets the clean clothes on the chair, and leans heavily on the crutch while he strips off his dirty, battle-worn garments.

The heat is good for him at least. It scalds at first, but slowly he adjusts, and the warmth seeps into his muscles, soothing all the aches and pains he has gathered this past week. He sinks beneath the water, soaking his hair, and in the dim light he can see that the water has turned faintly pink around him.

He grabs the soap, and begins to scrub, trying not to think about anything at all.

It's impossible.

When he's finished, it takes all his strength to drag himself out of the water, but he manages it. He also manages to towel himself down, and awkwardly pull on the clothes that Rose provided. The pants are a greyish, faded black, but the tunic is a deep blue. Perhaps it's the closest she could find to his usual fare. He's not sure the colour suits him, but he has bigger problems right now.

Rose is as good as her word, and she vacates the chair when she sees him coming back to sit with Rey. He drops into it, admittedly feeling much better for the coerced cleanliness. He takes up his usual position, Rey's hand in his, and Rose leaves him to it.

It's a short while later when Finn and Poe come by. He finds it odd, to say the least, that wherever one of them is, the other is rarely far behind. But then, he supposes, he hasn't left Rey's side in four days. He's not one to talk.

"How is she?" Finn asks, glancing across to Ben before returning his attention to Rey.

"No change," Ben mutters. It's a painful truth. He feels like he might grow old waiting for her to recover. But if that's the case, so be it.

"Actually," Apho says, walking over, his dark brow creased as he looks down at the data screen in his hand. "That's not quite true."

Ben's stomach plummets. The expression on Apho's face - the lines of concern, the pursed lips as he tries to express the things he does not wish to say - tells Ben all he needs to know.

"No," he says, shaking his head. He holds Rey's hand more tightly. "No."

"Her life signs are dwindling," Apho continues, meeting Ben's eyes with steady resolve. "It was slow at first, so we couldn't see a pattern. But..."

"But what?" Poe asks impatiently, taking a step towards Apho. He runs an anxious hand through his hair, while Apho considers his answer.

"It's speeding _up_. In that...she's slowing down. Heart rate, temperature, oxygen levels, they're all going down."

Ben hears the words, but he can't process them. Surely Apho is confusing her with someone else, someone not long for this world? It can't be Rey, that he's talking about. It can't be, not after everything, not after everything they've been through. Not after he clawed her back from the universe.

He's not _ready_. He never will be. Not for this.

"No," he breathes, and he blinks, hard, trying to clear the hot tears that are blurring his vision.

"How long does she have?" Finn asks in a quiet voice.

"Hours," Apho replies softly. "A day or two at the most."

Ben won't have it. He _won't_. He turns to Rey, dragging his chair even closer to her bed. He cups her face, and tries to ignore that it's a fraction cooler to the touch than he remembers.

She's _dying_.

"Wake up," he says to her, and he gives her a little shake. "Wake up Rey, this is important." His voice cracks on the last word, but he carries on. "Come on, please. Rey, _please_." His voice is vanishing in his throat, his vocal cords constricting until they have nothing left to give but a strained whisper. "_Please_."

She stirs, only just, and then opens her eyes a fraction.

"Ben?"

"Yeah, it's me," he says, relieved beyond anything to hear her voice. "I have to finish what I started," he whispers, and he pulls her into a sitting position, his forehead resting against hers. "And I wanted to say goodbye."

His mind is made up. She said herself, his place is with her. But if she disappears into the stars and he's left here for twenty, thirty, forty years? He couldn't take it. What would he do with himself? Where would he go?

She's the saviour of the galaxy. She deserves to live far more than he does.

"Ben _no_." She pulls her hand from his, reaching up to touch his face, her fingers cold. "It didn't _work_."

"So let me try again," he pleads. "Let me do this." He takes her hand again, but she pulls it away, shaking her head.

The old him, the him that was used to getting his own way, the him that would destroy anything standing in his way, would have pushed ahead regardless. But he can't disobey her. Not her. Not now. Not ever.

"Please," he says again, though the word is meaningless for her. She's made up her mind just as much as he's made up his. "You _said_. Half a life together. You _promised_." His tears are hot, and they spill down his cheeks thick and fast. "Please, just _take it_. Take it _all_. It's yours."

"It's not," Rey says, her voice growing weaker with every word. "It's not mine."

"But I don't _want it_. Not without _you_. Please, just take it."

"Ben," his name on her lips is the most beautiful and terrible thing he's ever heard. "If you do this, you'll break my heart." Her voice cracks, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes as she looks up at him.

"But what about _my heart_?" he whispers. "Rey...I can't do this without you."

"You can," she breathes. "Of course you can."

"But I don't _want to_." The idea of it is so unthinkable that there is a black hole where his thoughts ought to be, as though his brain is trying to protect him from the terrible reality of a world without Rey. "Don't leave me."

"I won't leave you," she says. "Not really."

"How about you don't leave me at all?"

She smiles weakly, but it's no good. He thought he had lived with his fair share of grief and pain. But the galaxy wants to throw this at him too. He knows he doesn't deserve her, but this isn't _about_ him. It's about her, and the fact that she has fought for so long for peace, but she doesn't get to enjoy it. She deserves to live. She's owed it.

"Be good," she says. "Do good."

"Rey, wait - "

She closes her eyes and flops in his arms like a rag doll. The data screen still blips, but the noises are further apart than ever, her heart rate dangerously slow.

Ben carefully lays her back down on her pillows, moving her into a comfortable position. He presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, so forcefully that he can see bursts of colour on the inside of his eyelids. There has to be something he can do. He can't contemplate a life without her, but at the same time, how can he disobey such a direct, repeated wish?

In his own mind, he knows that she would cope far better without him than he her. She has never needed him, but the last few years, everything she is has been critical to him making out of the other side of this godforsaken war. Without her, he wouldn't be here, in all senses.

There is a hand on his shoulder, and when he turns, he half expects to see Luke again. But instead it is Poe. Pity flashing through those brown eyes again, his face marred with grief.

"What are you gonna do?" Finn asks softly. The unspoken words are there. _We want her back, and if you're the price, we're happy to pay it_.

Ben agrees wholeheartedly, one Ben in exchange for one Rey is a bargain for the galaxy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Balance**

**by Flaignhan**

* * *

He wishes he could talk to his mom.

He is in such desperate need for straightforward advice from someone who loves him. He would give anything to hear her voice right now, even if she were to yell at him for all the terrible things he's done. Even if she spent a solid hour telling him how stupid he is for not coming home sooner. For leaving it too late. Far too late.

"_Leia." _The word comes in a gasp from Poe, and Ben looks up. She's standing - surrounded by a blue haze - just behind Finn, who whirls around and takes a step back.

"Generals," she says with a smile, looking from Finn to Poe. "Could I possibly have a moment with my son?"

Finn nods wordlessly, and leaves the med bay. Poe's hand slips from Ben's shoulder and he follows, pausing at Leia's side. His mouth is open, but the words fail to come.

"I'm so proud of you all," she says to him, and the words - words which Ben would have heard, had he been a better son - sting more than he'd like.

Poe nods, his lips pressed together as a single tear trails down his cheek. When he closes the door behind him, she circles around the bed, coming to a halt next to Ben's chair.

Although he's sitting down, she's only a few inches taller than him.

"Mom." The word nearly chokes him, but when she holds him, she feels as real as anything. "I'm sorry," he says. It's long overdue.

"I know," she says, her hands stroking his hair. "Me too."

He wants to hold on forever, to make up for all the years he went without love. But there's a far more pressing issue - all the years he has ahead of him, without Rey.

"I don't want to be here, if she's not."

His mom looks down at him, her eyes bright, and she brushes the tears from his face with her fingertips. "Don't be so dramatic," she says.

"I _don't_."

"I know. You think anybody ever does? Do you honestly think you're the first person who wants to switch places with the person they love?"

"I have a _choice_ though."

He'd not wanted an argument. But of course, it's what he's getting.

"You're so focused on how you'd rather die than live without her," his mom sighs. "That you're completely forgetting that neither of you _need to die_."

"But I _gave her_ half my life force already," Ben tells her. "And it's not _working_."

She shakes her head, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Get your head out of your ass, Ben. She _stopped you_ as soon as she woke up! You gave her a _pittance_."

The news jolts through him. How could he be so stupid? And her, as well? How could she be lying there, at death's door, without entertaining the possibility that he might have a little more to give?

"How do you know?" he asks. "Because I can't _tell_, how can I _tell_?"

"Of course you can't _tell_," his mom says, reaching out hand to brush his hair from his face. She's smiling now, indulgent, looking at him in a way that he hasn't been looked at for more than a decade. "You're her, she's you. You're both too wrapped up in the other to tell where one of you ends and the other begins. It'd be beautiful, if it weren't so stupidly dangerous."

He doesn't have time to think on her words. He needs solutions, something to solidify Rey's place in the world. Something that will guarantee her safety - his own be damned. "So how do I fix it? She won't let me give her any more, she'd be furious with me."

"As ever, you need to find the balance. I'm sure you can think of something."

He frowns. "That's it?" She's come all the way here as a force ghost and that's all she's going to give him? A hint? He's too exhausted, too fragile, too _desperate _to solve any riddles right now. What he wants more than anything is a straightforward instruction, one that will bring Rey back, so that they can live their half life together, like they planned.

"You're a smart boy," she says. "You can figure it out."

"But - "

"You'll be fine," she says, and she wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so proud of you, Ben," she whispers. She presses her lips to his temple, and in the same instant, she disappears, taking all of her warmth and love with her.

The second she's gone, the door opens again. Finn and Poe are there, watching him as he wipes his face with the cuff of his sleeve.

"I can save her," he tells them. He doesn't know how, but ideas are stirring in his mind. But all the time he spends waiting for them to become tangible is time that Rey spends edging closer and closer to death.

"What do you need?" asks Poe.

"Uh, somewhere...somewhere quiet," he stammers. He puts his arms around Rey's motionless form and lifts her up.

"The Falcon?" Poe suggests.

"No," Ben says, shaking his head. "Not there. Not there." He can't even begin to think about stepping foot on that ship. Not yet. Not when he needs to focus everything he has on Rey.

"There's a clearing," Finn says, "in the forest. There's a little stream. It's away from everywhere else."

Ben nods. "Take me there."

Finn turns on his heel, and Ben's first step is agony, but he forces it from his mind. There are more important things than his leg.

"D'you need help with her?" Poe asks.

Ben shakes his head. He has to do this. All of it. Then, if it goes wrong, he only has himself to blame.

The clearing is as Finn described. Shaded by trees, the noise of the base is a distant murmur. The leaves are crunchy underfoot, and the gentle trickle of the stream helps to calm Ben's racing pulse.

"Perfect," he says, and he slowly gets to his knees, taking Rey down with him. He sits on the ground, positioning her in front of him, her back to his chest.

"Do you want us to leave?" asks Finn.

Ben shakes his head. "No, you have to stay. She might need your help if it goes wrong."

"What could go wrong?" Poe asks taking a step forward, his face lined with worry.

"I dunno," Ben says with a shrug. "Lots of things, probably. But we're out of options, and out of time."

Poe nods, his jaw set. Finn can't keep the concern from his face.

"Is there anything we can do?" he asks.

"I just need you to be quiet," Ben says. "And..."

The words don't come. He's ready to face the possibility, but not ready to express it to two people who don't really care one way or the other, as long as they get Rey back. He's a sacrifice they're willing to make, which is fair enough. But it doesn't make for the kindest audience for what could be his last words.

"And?"

"If I die doing this," he says slowly, taking Rey's hands in his own. He laces his fingers through hers, relishing in her realness. "Tell her I'm sorry. And that it wasn't part of the plan."

Finn nods. "Okay," he says. "We'll tell her."

Ben believes him. And so he begins.

He closes his eyes and shuts out everything except Rey, that faint light in the darkness. He breathes deeply, his chin resting against the side of her head, her hair squashed against his shoulder.

He lets the force rise within him, the energy building and building and building, and then, slowly but surely, it trickles through to her, the light becoming brighter and brighter. The more he gives to her, the more he can feel her.

Rey's light surrounds him, flows through him, and this, _this_ is what he was missing last time. They are one, truly, and wholly, within the force. It's not his life force or her life force. They're not bartering between one another. It's _theirs_. It doesn't matter from which of them each atom originated, because he is her and she is him.

He wants to stay like this forever, wrapped in her spirit, feeling nothing but warmth, and love, and light. But there are days, months, and years to come. Where they can build a life full of all of those things.

Ben breaks away from her, and falls back onto the ground. There's a pounding of footsteps as Finn and Poe rush forward.

"Ben?" It's Poe. "Come on buddy, sit up."

He's exhausted, dazed, but he's still here.

"I need to lie down," he says, feeling around for a comfortable spot.

"You already are," Finn replies, and he puts a steadying hand on Ben's shoulder, anchoring him to the forest floor.

"Is she okay?" the words are slurred, and he wonders if he's gone too far. He's yet to hear her voice, though her presence in the force is much stronger, much closer than it's been in days.

"Ben?"

She's tired too, her voice croaky and strained. Ben reaches for her, his arms wrapping around her. Her position explains the weight on his chest, and his left hand moves to her hair, to loop his fingers into the soft knots at the back of her head.

He feels like he could sleep for a thousand years, and with her, laying here with him, it doesn't sound like such a bad idea.

"Get a transport." Finn's voice. "Let's get them both back to the med bay."

There's a crinkle of leaves as Poe sprints away, and Ben lets himself fall, deep, deep, deep, deep.

* * *

She is here.

Perfectly, solidly here.

She reaches out with her mind. Ben is close by, physically. He's resting. Which is good.

Rey opens her eyes, squinting up at the harsh lighting of the med bay. The data screen next to her bed is tracking her heart beat with little blue spikes on the display.

"Hey," Rose says softly, leaning forward in her chair, placing a hand on Rey's arm. She's smiling, her eyes bright. "How are you feeling?"

"Where's Ben?"

"He's fine," Rose tells her, and she nods towards Rey's other side. Rey turns her head on the pillow and sees him there, his data screen showing little blue spikes in tandem with her own. "He's resting, but he's fine. All this Jedi stuff is thirsty work, it seems."

Rey smiles, satisfied that Ben is okay.

"Where are Finn and Poe?" she asks, turning back to Rose. Her hair is piled in a messy knot on top of her head, her sleeves rolled up, a faint grease stain on one forearm.

"Sleeping," Rose replies. "It's the middle of the night."

"Rose, what are you _doing here_? You should be in bed!"

"Relax," Rose says. "Poe took the morning shift, Finn the evening shift, and I'm on the night shift. Somebody's gotta watch over you two."

It's been a long time coming, and a hard fought battle. But Rey lies there, processing the notion of having a family. She is surrounded by people she loves, who love her. Who sit by her bedside, just in case.

Just in case.

"Thank you," she says softly. "Go to bed though, we'll be fine."

"You sure?" Rose asks, quirking one eyebrow. It's only now that Rey notices the dark circles under her eyes.

"Very sure," she replies. She covers Rose's hand with her own and gives it a small squeeze. "Sleep well."

Rose nods, gets to her feet, and then heads for the door. Rey rolls over, so she can watch Ben, see that his heart rate is still as strong as it was just a few minutes ago. She wants him to wake up, she wants to be able to talk to him. But she'll let him rest. He must need it, after all of that.

Her eyelids grow heavy, and she fights to stay awake. She wants to be there for him when he wakes, just like Rose was there for her. She holds on to consciousness, one arm tucked beneath her pillow, as she watches his chest rise and fall.

She loses track of the time. Her eyes itch with tiredness, but then she hears a deep inhale, followed by a soft exhale. And his voice, issuing one cracked syllable.

"Rey?"

"Yeah," she says. "I'm fine, you're fine."

He breathes a sigh of relief, and turns his head on the pillow, his hair flopping into his eyes.

"What did you do?" she asks, her curiosity not able to hold on for any longer.

"Found the balance," he murmurs. He breathes deeply again, and she can sense his process, building a picture of where he is, what's happened, how long he's been asleep for. It's like cogs in a machine, everything falling into place as his brain wakes up.

"Well, it clearly worked," she tells him. There's a tug of a smile at his mouth, and his next words are soft.

"Exactly half a life," he says. "Together."

Rey nods. "Perfect." It's more than she could have hoped for. To spend the rest of her days in peace with him, building a life, a home, a family of their own. She can't imagine being here without him, can't imagine the chasm that would leave in her life, and she doesn't dwell on it. Because they have years ahead. Decades.

"I bet you ten credits it's accurate to the last minute," he says.

She laughs into her pillow. "You sound like your dad."

A real smile breaks across his face, lines forming in his cheeks with the breadth of it. He flings an arm out across the gap between their beds, his hand outstretched.

Rey reaches out and takes it.

* * *

**The end**


End file.
